


Straining Against a Fate

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-21
Updated: 2010-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've never considered propositioning Ronon before tonight."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straining Against a Fate

For once, the darkness that surrounded them wasn't ominous. The planet was uninhabited, with no predators larger than a squirrel that they'd been able to find. The only reason they were there at all were the _intriguing_ energy signals. Those same signals made it impossible to fly a jumper, so they had to walk, but for once not even Rodney was complaining. In fact, he'd fussed more about stopping for the night than about being tired.

John lounged against a fallen log, smiling at everyone and no one. Ronon was across the fire from him, sharpening one of his knives, and Rodney was deep in analyzing what data they'd already been able to collect. Teyla hadn't been able to join them on this trip, but that was okay. She had important Athosian-type things to deal with. John tried not to frown as he thought about the hole where she should be. They'd be _fine_.

The clicking sounds of Rodney messing around on his data pad were starting to get to John. It was well after dark - Rodney shouldn't be trying to work on his computer by firelight. He grinned a little to himself. He was man enough to admit that he didn't like it when Rodney ignored him in favor of one of the many computers he worked with. It wasn't like they did anything particularly neat, unlike some of the Ancient tech they found.

Time to interrupt, he thought. "Rodney?"

"Hmmm?" Rodney answered without even looking up, and oh, no, that would never do.

"C'mon, Rodney. The signal will still be there in the morning, when there's real light for you to see by." John moved around the fire pit, settling next to Rodney. He was close enough that he could feel the heat bleeding off of him. Rodney lifted his head and stared. "What? It's just that it's late, and you should go lie down."

Rodney snorted. "Right. You're concerned that I get enough sleep. You were singing a different tune last night." Then, as if realizing that he had said something he shouldn't have, he stopped.

Slowly, the two of them turned to look at Ronon, who was threading his knife back into his hair. "I knew," he said, and John had to swallow down sudden overwhelming fear. _Oh, shit_. Ronon seemed to be able to read the set of John's shoulders, or maybe his expression gave him away, because he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone, but yeah, Teyla and I both know."

John's mouth was dry with fear, but he forced his shoulders to relax, nodding at Ronon. A glance at Rodney showed that he expected to be blamed for this unexpected turn of events - his shoulders were hunched up around his ears, and he wouldn't look at John. Before John could say or do anything to calm him down, Ronon flashed a wide grin. Digging in one of his coat pockets, he pulled out a bottle of Athosian ale. John winced - the stuff had a bite like tequila.

"What do you think we're going to do with that?" Rodney said, glancing at John out of the corner of his eye.

"I think we're going to drink it."

"Off-planet? Are you nuts? There could be an attack at any time!"

"From what, Rodney? A rabid squirrel? I think Ronon has a great idea, so why don't you put up your data pad and join us? Unless, of course, you're too chicken," John couldn't resist teasing him, only to get a glare in return.

"What are you? Twelve?" Rodney asked, and then said, without waiting for an answer, "Fine. Fine. I'll come join you two juvenile delinquents."

John dug through his pack, pulling out a couple of cups, and held them out to Ronon to pour. He was generous, pouring a healthy measure in each metal cup, and John took his back with some trepidation. Reasoning that the taste wasn't going to get better even if he lingered, he tossed back about half of it in one quick swallow.

Rodney was sipping at it, making a face, and Ronon had already tossed his back. "C'mon, McKay," he growled, and Rodney sighed, tossing his back in a quick swallow that surprised John.

After drinking the rest of his, he held out his cup for Ronon to fill again. He really should have eaten something before deciding that drinking this stuff was a good idea, because it was going straight to his head. Enough so that he didn't think before he said, "Hey, let's play I Never."

The look of horror on Rodney's face was priceless. "Colonel, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, Rodney. C'mon, let's play."

"How do you play this game?" Ronon rumbled.

"Oh, sorry. Forgot that you've never played. Each person says something that they've never done, and if you _have_ , you have to take a drink." John ignored Rodney's sigh, and said, "So, I could say, 'I've never gotten a doctorate.'"

Rodney cut in, "And since I have, I'd have to take a drink," and with a grimace, Rodney threw back his drink. The smile on Ronon's face was fit to crack his face open.

He poured Rodney another drink, held his up, and said, "I've never read Ancient."

Swearing quietly, Rodney took another drink, as did John. This time, it was Rodney who said, "I've never actually killed a Wraith where I could see it." And John and Ronon both drank.

John held up his glass, studied it for a moment, and said, "I've never had a sibling." Rodney and Ronon both drank, but then Ronon drained the glass, refilled it and drained it a second time, while John and Rodney stared. "What? I had eight brothers and sisters - isn't that worth two glasses?"

Snickering, John nodded and waited patiently for Ronon's next statement. He didn't have to wait long. "I've never been married." Oh, shit. The glare that Rodney was giving him when he drank was enough to kill. He smiled at Rodney, and tried to pretend that he didn't know exactly why Rodney was pissed off.

"I never listened to Johnny Cash," Rodney said, and John tipped his drink back.

He had to think hard to think of the next one. Both Rodney and Ronon were starting to get a little blurry. "I've never kissed with my eyes closed," he blurted out, before he could think better of it.

Ronon tossed back his drink back without complaint, but Rodney paused. "Really?" he asked.

"Really. I like to know who I'm kissing," John said, aware that it didn't make much sense but not really caring much.

"How come I've never noticed that?" Rodney said, more to himself than to John, but John answered anyway.

"Because you do?"

"Oh, yeah." They stared at each other for a moment, and all John could think was how much he wanted to kiss Rodney, see the look of bliss that he got when he was really lost in the kiss.

They both jumped when Ronon cleared his throat. "I've never kissed another guy." John couldn't help the little shiver of fear that raced through him as he drank this time. It was weird, realizing that Ronon knew and didn't care. Rodney, on the other hand, was smiling fit to beat the band, and John knew it was because keeping it a secret was hard for him. More than once Rodney had said that he'd like to brag from the rooftops about his "hot boyfriend," but he couldn't, because of John's job.

Rodney laughed softly to himself, held up the glass and said, "I've never eaten with my hands as an adult." Ronon drank his, and then seemed to lose his balance on the log they were sitting on, sliding off to sit on the ground. Both John and Rodney chuckled, but the laughter dried up at the look Ronon was giving them. It wasn't threatening or anything... it was just _hot_.

What the hell, John thought. "I've never had group sex." He had to admit that he was more than a little amused that the only person to take a drink was Rodney. "Really? You've done the orgy thing?"

"Really, Colonel. What can I say? It was cold in Siberia." John thought this over for a moment, then raised his eyebrow and nodded towards Ronon, who was silent but watching them carefully. Rodney nodded back and said; "I've never considered propositioning Ronon before tonight."

No one drank.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the fire. All three of them seemed frozen in the moment, barely even breathing. Then John let out a soft sigh. Rodney'd broken the ice. It was up to him to try to take it to the next step. Reassuring himself that it was unlikely that Ronon would hit him, he started to stand. Realizing that the alcohol had gone directly to his head, making him _very_ unsteady, he dropped back to his knees and slowly crawled to where Ronon sat, stopping only when he was a few inches away. Reaching out slowly, giving Ronon plenty of time to duck out of the way or push him back, he took one of Ronon's dreds in his hand, tugging him forward.

Their lips met, slow and sweet.

John kept the kiss mostly chaste, until Ronon's tongue came out and licked across his bottom lip. Then, with a groan that was echoed by Rodney, he opened his mouth and let Ronon in. Their tongues met in the middle, twisting and turning all over each other, and John could have sworn that Ronon was trying to count his teeth and check for his tonsils.

When a hand landed on his back, John jumped and turned to look at Rodney. Even in the firelight, John could see the way that Rodney's eyes were wide, his breathing labored. Rodney dropped to his knees and yanked John in by his hair, kissing him ferociously. John went limp and pliable as he always did when Rodney took control. If anything, the reaction was even more intense because of the alcohol.

Rodney finally released the hold he had on John's hair, and they both turned to look at Ronon, who was panting lightly. John arched an eyebrow in question, not really surprised when Ronon growled and nodded, leaning forward to kiss him with the same ferocity that Rodney showed. He knew that he should let Ronon take the lead, but the alcohol was making him both brave and stupid, weaving his fingers under the ties of Ronon's pants and tugging.

"What do you want?" For the amount of alcohol that Rodney had consumed, he shouldn't have sounded so sober. John opened his mouth to answer, only to be stopped by Rodney's hand. "I'm thinking that we'll put him in the middle. Does that sound good to you?"

Ronon's voice was a deep rumble. "Sounds good to me, but what does Sheppard think?"

Rodney's laugh was clear. "He'll think whatever I tell him to about this. He loves cock." John would have protested that, but Rodney chose that moment to run his hand down John's chest, catching and pinching a nipple between two fingers. Pleasure flooded through him, and he moaned softly, hips pushing into open air. "Want him to suck you? Or would you rather give his ass a try?"

Ronon grabbed at his cock through his pants, giving it a hard squeeze. "He sucks dick?"

"Like a hoover." John could tell that Rodney was smiling, that cheesy grin that he got sometimes.

"That's what I want then. I want his mouth on me."

Ronon started to unlace his pants, and Rodney gave John a sharp slap on his hip. "Can you stand up and strip off, John? Or do you need help?"

John certainly wasn't about to admit that he couldn't stand under his own power, even though he felt more than a bit wobbly. Carefully, he shifted so he was sitting flat on his ass, and focused on getting his boots unlaced. That alone required intense concentration, and when he finally kicked them off and looked up at Rodney, he saw a huge grin on his face. Rodney didn't say anything, though, simply pulling off his own shirt.

He managed to get stripped off fairly quickly, but it still took him longer than either Rodney or Ronon. Rodney pulled him in for another forceful kiss, one hand busy on his chest, the other on his ass. "You ready for this, John?"

John nodded eagerly, and Rodney chuckled. "Slut," he said, voice full of fond amusement. John thought about arguing, but there really was no point since it would be a lie. Instead he nodded again, leaning in for another kiss.

Rodney gave it to him, then turned him in his arms and pushed him lightly towards Ronon. "Why don't you kiss Ronon while I get some supplies?" That sounded good, so while Rodney messed around in the pack, he sought out Ronon's mouth.

Ronon was surprisingly gentle, the kiss mostly lips with just the tip of his tongue. John moaned into the kiss, his hands drifting over Ronon's chest, tracing out the ribs and muscles.

Hands on his back warned him that Rodney was back, stroking him firmly. Rodney leaned forward, his chest against John's back, and whispered in his ear, "Suck him, John. I want to watch."

Breaking the kiss, he slowly sunk down on all fours, putting his mouth even with Ronon's cock - which was certainly _proportional_. Instead of taking it in, though, he buried his nose in the join of hip and groin, inhaling deeply. Ronon smelled of male musk and clean sweat, and it was intoxicating. Ronon's hand was gentle in his hair, tugging lightly. "Please, Sheppard."

Since he wasn't trying to be a tease, he pulled back and took the head of Ronon's cock in his mouth, sucking delicately while running his tongue under Ronon's foreskin.

A finger sliding down his ass made him jump, and then it was sliding inside, slow but insistent. He moaned around the cock in his mouth, and Ronon took advantage to slide deeper, ripping another moan out of his throat.

Ronon's hips started to move, fucking his mouth and throat, even as Rodney added another finger. The sheer physicality of what they were doing slammed through John, and he whimpered. He wanted Rodney in his ass, pushing him forward onto Ronon. Pulling his mouth back, he said, "Goddammit, Rodney. Not going to break - would you fuck me already?"

"I can't," came the unexpected answer.

Incredulous, John turned to look over his shoulder at Rodney. "What do you mean, you can't. You're naked and hard, we have lube, why can't you?"

Rodney looked mournful as he said, "No condoms. I didn't exactly expect this, you know! But I'll get you off, and then you can just blow me."

John thought as quickly as he could, given that his brain felt like it had been pickled in alcohol. "Fuck me bare, then."

The fingers in his ass stilled, as Rodney froze. "Are you - are you sure?"

"Dammit, we're both clean or Beckett wouldn't let us out of the infirmary. Just fuck me already."

"Don't say Carson's name while we're trying to have sex, John," but Rodney's voice was amused. He could feel Rodney shifting behind him, and then Rodney pulled his fingers out of John's ass. He barely had time to feel empty before Rodney was pushing into him.

He hadn't actually expected to feel different, but it _was_. It was - hotter, somehow, feeling Rodney's skin instead of a rubber. Rodney gave a low groan and came to a shuddering stop. His hands clenched on John's hips, and he said, "Give me a second. I've never done this without a condom before."

John nodded sharply and turned his attention to the cock bobbing in front of him as a distraction. He didn't want this to end too quickly - for any of them. Rather than sucking on Ronon's cock, he concentrated on licking every bit of skin, making it good and wet. Wrapping his hand around the base, he opened his mouth and took it as deep as he could, until the head felt lodged in his throat.

Ronon groaned and gripped John's head tightly. Rodney picked that moment to start to move, and John was caught, trapped between the two dicks impaling him. He whimpered and let Rodney push him forward so that he was taking Ronon even deeper, then Ronon thrust, pushing him back onto Rodney's cock.

All he had to do was stay up on all fours as he was fucked from both ends. It was a good thing, too, since just doing that was taking all of his concentration. He could feel his cock bouncing against his stomach, could feel how slick he was, and he knew that it wasn't going to take long.

Determined to take both Rodney and Ronon with him, he simultaneously clenched his hole at the same time that he started to swallow around the head of Ronon's cock. Ronon gave an inarticulate shout even as Rodney clutched his hips even tighter. John was really getting pounded now, and every stroke of Rodney's went right over his prostate.

All he could do was whimper and moan as his body was urged even higher. Then Rodney leaned forward and said, "Going to come for me, John? Going to clench my cock tight with your hole?" and that was all John needed. He started to come, all over his chest and stomach.

As if he was setting off a chain reaction, Ronon grunted and started to come in his mouth. He barely managed to swallow, lost in the feeling of Rodney coming in his ass, hot and wet and wild.

Somehow, John managed to stay on his hands and knees, even as Ronon and Rodney pulled out. His head dropped as he panted, his tongue running over the inside of his mouth, searching out the taste of Ronon. He felt wasted, ready to drop, but he didn't want this night to end yet.

As if Rodney knew what was playing through his head, he wrapped his arms around John's chest, tugging and pulling until he went over on his side, his back to Rodney's chest. Ronon came around and laid down in front of him, bracketing John in heat, making him feel... protected. As if he was something precious.

Shaking it off, he craned his head over his shoulder, searching out Rodney's mouth, ignoring the way that it strained his neck. They kissed for long moments, and then Ronon's hand was on his cheek, guiding his mouth to Ronon's. "Relax, John," Rodney said. "We'll still be here in the morning, and the hangover that you're going to have is going to be impressive enough without you be sleep deprived on top of it."

Ronon chuckled, and kissed him one more time. "Next time, I want your ass," he said. Realizing that this probably wasn't going to be a one-time thing, he finally let his body relax totally. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what would happen if he suggested Rodney be in the middle. That would be hot.


End file.
